


Pretty Pickle

by esteefee



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover Pairings, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1238497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt:</strong> Vala Mal Doran/John Sheppard: good for each other<br/><strong>Summary:</strong> Vala and John get up to some mischief in the Milky Way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Pickle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [busaikko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/gifts).



> **Notes:** Beta by Mischief. Thanks, babe. 
> 
> OC kinda stolen from Eddie Izzard.

"Well, this is a pretty pickle," John said, tugging at the straps binding his hands to the poles beside him. The leather of his shirt was thin, and he could feel Vala doing some squirming of her own behind him, her warm back moving fluidly against his and pulling taut the bonds holding them together. 

It was a little distracting.

"What is a pickle? Isn't that what they put on your Tau'ri cheeseburgers? I like pickles." Vala's hair slid across his neck. "But they aren't very pretty. They're a violent green color, as I recall." 

"It's from when they used to pickle meat to preserve it—not a good thing, being in a pickle," John said, shivering a little when Vala's fingertips fluttered against his wrist. 

Vala stopped moving. "I don't think you're trying very hard to get free, John." She sounded amused.

"I am, too." He twisted his wrists, trying to stretch the binding, ignoring the fact he could feel the firm flesh of Vala's butt moving against his leather pants. Stupid smuggler outfits.

"You keep touching me like that, you're gonna owe me a beer," he said, and she chuckled and shoved her ass against him again. Not that he was really complaining. Vala had a terrific ass. Vala had a terrific everything. But that wasn't his problem. Cam Mitchell was never going to let him live it down if he and Teal'c had to rescue them from the Lucian Alliance just because Vala had recognized one of Netan's Seconds in the marketplace and had convinced John that stealing intel on kassa transport lines would be a breeze.

"Yeah, we're screwed," John said, and kept pulling. It felt like there was a little more give, though.

"That sounds much more appealing than 'pickled,'" Vala said. She squirmed again, a lengthy ripple that started at John's nape and twitched all along his spine, and then he felt her plucking at the bindings on his wrists. "Ah," she said. "There we are." 

"Wow. You're, um, pretty flexible," he said breathlessly. She'd somehow managed to maneuver herself into a position to start working on his knots. 

"I do have my positive points, although not to hear some tell it," Vala said darkly. 

"Oh, hey. You're top on my list of people to get tied up with. Well, next to Ronon, who always carries, like, ten knives. But the two of you are dead even," John added hastily, then bit his lip. He could feel Vala laughing silently against him as she continued to pick at his knots.

"Why, thank you." Vala let out a small hiss of effort, and then John felt his right wrist ease loose. "There we go. One down, three to go."

"And it will go much faster now that I can do this," John said, tugging his arm free—God, that felt good—and reaching into the waist of his pants for the small knife he kept concealed in a seam there. 

"Oh, well done," Vala said a few moments later when he cut their chest strap and then started on his other wrist restraint. He gave himself a small nick on his left wrist but was able to be much more careful with Vala's bindings once he was free.

"Well," she said, pushing the hair out of her face and giving him a sharp grin. "Shall we be off?"

John shook his head and took a look at the dank cellar with its formidable, heavy wooden door at the top of the stone stairs. "Yeah. Got a battering ram handy?"

"Nope. But I do have a way with locks if you'll lend me that knife." 

He shouldn't have been surprised that it was as easy as that getting free of their cell; getting out of the compound, though, would be a little trickier. They had to assume Danteg, Netan's Second, had left a bunch of guards to watch them. Two of them were drinking and playing cards of some kind in a room down the hall from the cell.

Vala took the one on the right; John the one on the left. With a minor scuffle, they silenced them both before they could raise an alarm. Vala was even faster than John in subduing her guard, he noticed with admiration.

And then they had their weapons and gear back, and were heading upstairs, when they heard the sound of automatic gunfire.

"Oh, now the cavalry shows up," John said disgustedly. He'd kind of been hoping they could get back safely on their own to avoid Cam giving him shit for getting his teammate in trouble.

"Cam's always a bit behind," Vala said, flashing John a smile. "Let's go join the fun."

So they charged up the stairs and caught the remaining Alliance guards in a crossfire. John got two from behind, and Vala got the third with her zat.

"Nice shooting," she said breathlessly. The last guard standing dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, his hands out to the sides. Mitchell stomped up to him and kicked aside his gun, then looked up at John and Vala on the balcony.

"Well, howdy, friends. Nice of you to join us." Mitchell looked both relieved and disgruntled to see them alive and well, if a little bruised up. Teal'c looked like Teal'c, which was to say, he nodded serenely at them and turned to guard the entryway.

"Now, is that any way to greet your missing teammates? Especially when they come bearing gifts?" Vala said, and she turned away to produce a tightly rolled-up document a moment later.

"No way," John said. "You held onto it? I thought they searched you."

Vala grinned and winked at him. "I put it somewhere very particular. And then I told the guard in so many words if he tried to touch me there I would pickle his balls."

John laughed. "You are something special, you know that?"

"Now, that is awfully nice to hear, I must admit." She looped her arms around John's neck, the scroll brushing the back of his head. And then, to his surprise, she leaned up and gave him a slow, thoughtful kiss.

"Hey! Break it up, you two! We've got to get out of here." Mitchell definitely sounded pissed now. 

Vala rolled her eyes and tucked the scroll away again, this time into her leather vest, and the two of them jogged down the stairs to join Mitchell and Teal'c. 

But all the way back to the Gate, John tasted Vala on his lips.

:::

"You're a real pain in my ass, you know that?" Mitchell was saying to Vala as John walked into the SGC infirmary for his post-check. John shared a look with Vala over Mitchell's shoulder. "And you're no better," Mitchell said to John. 

John just shrugged and hoisted himself up one gurney over. "Yeah. Real sorry about that."

"You should have checked in before going after Danteg."

"It's hardly our fault you didn't invite us into your ultra-secret meeting with the chief," Vala said, crossing her arms. "He's quite fond of me, you know." 

"Oh, I'm sure he is—"

John interrupted before things could get too heated. "We tried to radio you, but you were comm silent. We had to make a quick decision or we stood to lose Danteg in the crowd."

Vala passed him a grateful look. "Danteg is on the list," she said with some satisfaction. "'Pursue and observe'? I think there's a standing order or some such."

"All right, all right," Mitchell said. "But I don't think there was anything on there saying 'infiltrate and get captured.'"

"No. I suppose not." Vala tapped her lip thoughtfully. "It did work out splendidly, though, don't you think?"

Mitchell groaned. John hid his grin behind his palm and was glad when Doc Lam showed up right then.

:::

"As unorthodox as the means were, I have to say grabbing the intel on the kassa shipment network was a nice piece of work, Vala, Colonel Sheppard," Landry said during debrief.

"Well, _I_ certainly thought so." Vala was leaning on the table next to John, her hair once again in tidy braids. 

"Indeed," Teal'c said. John looked over and saw a gleam in Teal'c's eye that he could almost read as a smirk. 

"Don't encourage them," Mitchell muttered. 

Landry cleared his throat. "It's a good thing Atlantis is returning to Pegasus, Colonel Sheppard, because I'm sure Netan will be putting a bounty on your head to match the one on SG-1's. At least in Pegasus, you'll be out of reach."

"Oh, that's very nice," Vala said. "May I go, too? I barely got to see the place last time."

"Sure thing." John gave her a sideways grin.

"Hey," Mitchell said.

"We'll swap you for McKay," John joked.

"Actually, that's not such a bad idea," Landry said, sounding entirely serious. "Dr. McKay has been making noises about helping to rebuild the new dialing mechanism."

John smirked. Rodney never could let that go.

"That's perfect then," Vala started to say, only to be overridden by Mitchell's, "Now, just hang on a second."

"We really could use your help in acquiring intel against the Wraith," John said. "And if it will get you off the Lucian Alliance's radar for a little while, that's not such a bad thing." He gave Mitchell a look to see how he was taking it. 

Mitchell was frowning, but then he'd borrowed McKay for the Ori supergate thing, so he kind of owed John. And it wasn't like they were using Vala to her best; she'd told him how they still didn't seem to trust her as far as they could throw her. It didn't make much sense to him, considering all she'd done for the SGC.

But then, John knew all about being the black wolf in a flock of golden sheep.

"We'll discuss it and get back to you on that, Colonel," Landry said, and then they were all dismissed.

:::

"Well," Vala said, tugging on John's sleeve to yank him down the corridor. "It's the weekend; what do you say we get absolutely hammered?"

John blinked. "Sounds like a plan. Just let me change into my civvies." 

Vala being much more familiar with Colorado Springs than John was from his depressing two-month stay, steered them to a terrific little dive off the beaten path with dry gin, generous shots, and low, soulful jazz on the jukebox. 

And wicked, cutthroat rounds of pool going on in the back room. Apparently, with John there to back her play, Vala didn't plan to be even a little bit merciful with the gents.

Her hair was in pigtails. She was wearing a short skirt and tights, a frilly blouse that went downright transparent when backlit, and every time she bent over the table and gave John a wink, his dick tried to escape from his khakis.

She started off losing to sucker them in, stepped back to have a few beers with John and just watch, and then picked up the cue again and started cleaning up.

John leaned his elbow on the rail and kept his mouth shut and his eyes open, amused at the show. 

When the gentleman weighing in at two-forty in the plaid shirt tried to double down with the keys to his Bronco, John got ready for trouble. Plaid Shirt's pals fronted him cash instead, though, when Vala smirked and graciously offered to partner up with John to even the odds.

"You sure about this?" John said in her ear as he took the cue. 

"Don't think you're up to it?" she answered back, challenge in her eyes.

"Well, we couldn't exactly fit a pool table through the Gate, so I am a little rusty," he conceded, and then took the break, dropping a solid and two stripes into the pocket.

Vala laughed and kissed his cheek. "Oh, you naughty little sneak," she said in his ear. "You've been hiding secrets." 

Plaid shirt's beefy face went red. His partner slapped a hand over his face.

John sank three more, the cue sliding smoothly between his fingers, before bouncing the thirteen ball off the jaw of the pocket. 

Vala came to take his cue and plastered herself against his side, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "We should play sometime when you aren't 'rusty.'" 

John smirked.

Plaid Shirt was so pissed off, he only dropped one solid before handing off to Vala, who sank the next two stripes like she had her eyes closed, and then called the eight ball in the corner pocket. 

John was already mapping out the fastest means of exit.

She leaned over the table, delicate fingers propping the stick, lip tucked between her teeth the only sign of her focus. With a smooth tap of her cue, the eight ball dropped cleanly into the corner pocket.

"Well, that was fun," she said, scooping up her winnings and dropping her cue in the rack. "Ta-ta, boys."

"Now just a goddamned minute," Plaid Shirt said. "If you think we don't know when we're being hustled, you two got another thing coming."

There was a general murmur of discontented agreement, and John flicked his eyes around, trying to figure who was going to be the most trouble. "Sounds to me like you fellas are just sore losers," John said. "The lady beat you fair and square."

"Let me go, you oaf!" Vala said. There was a curse and a thump. John didn't make the mistake of turning around to look, because Vala could take care of herself, and Plaid Shirt was coming at him, two hundred and forty pounds of linebacker mean. As he brought up his fist, John reached out and grabbed a nearby serving tray and held it up between them, wincing when he felt the impact of the guy's knuckles against the metal.

"Ow! Motherfuck! Motherfuck!" Plaid Shirt bent over, clutching his wrist.

John kicked out and helped him down to the floor, then spun around to see how Vala was doing. She was standing over a sandy-haired guy, an empty pitcher in her hand. The guy was grabbing his nuts and not looking too happy. 

Putting down the tray, John took Vala's hand and started tugging her past the stunned group and toward the exit. "It's been fun," John said. 

"Yes! A hoot, as they say." Vala still had the pitcher in one hand. "See you later."

John thought Vala should give it a while before coming back. They pushed out through the exit doors, and then ran like a couple of kids into the parking lot, where Vala tossed the pitcher in a dumpster, grinning with satisfaction when it shattered. 

They climbed into the car, and Vala surprised John by grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and hauling him in for a ferocious kiss. After she was done destroying him, she pulled back and stroked his cheek with her hand.

"You're just full of surprises, John Sheppard."

"I do try, ma'am," he said, feeling breathless. "So. Where to, next?" 

She shook her head and smiled. "No telling me we'll get in trouble with the SGC, and I should tame it down and all that or there'll be consequences?"

"I don't know; we seemed to handle it all right." John smirked. 

"We did, didn't we?" Vala's smile went crystal bright. She leaned back and waved toward the street. "Why don't you let me worry about where?" she said. "You just start driving." 

John just nodded easily and started up the car.

He hadn't had this much fun since—well, hell. He wasn't sure when. He'd had a pretty fucking depressing time of it the last month or so, ever since Atlantis touched down and he'd been grounded. Atlantis had been reduced to a skeleton crew, and Teyla, Kanaan, Torren and Ronon had been shuffled off to Washington to be used as diplomatic fodder by Woolsey and the SGC to convince the International Oversight Committee that Pegasus natives were people, too. Rodney had disappeared with Zelenka and the rest of the science contingent to draft papers on what geniuses they were.

And John and the military personnel—with the exception of Lorne and his happy band of marines and caretakers back on Atlantis—had ended up stationed at the SGC to do paperwork and fill in on Gate teams. Which was how John had ended up subbing in on SG-1 and getting into a pickle with Vala.

Her hand slipped onto his thigh and gave him a squeeze just a little too close for comfort.

"Hey, now," he said, "that's not playing fair."

"Oh, you should know by now I never play fair, John."

"I did know that about you," he said. "I kind of like it."

"You do," she said, and tilted him a smile, her whiskey brown eyes warm under the passing streetlights. He could be in real trouble here, and he didn't even care. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this way about anyone. Well, actually, he could—and he'd ended up married. But somehow, he didn't think Vala was going to propose to him like Nancy had.

Not unless the proposal was mayhem. 

"Next stop? Wanna give me a hint, or should I just keep driving?"

"Keep going on 24 then go south on 67," she said. "We're going to a little place called Cripple Creek."

"Huh. Sounds...quaint." 

Her smile went secretive, and John figured she was up to no good at all. 

When half an hour later she directed him to pull down a wide boulevard and he saw the glittering, blinking lights of the casinos, he just laughed.

:::

"I believe this is a blackjack, yes?"

"It sure is," John said. He leaned over and kissed her temple. "You're on a serious roll."

"I am, aren't I? Why does the man in the suit look so grumpy? Shouldn't he be happy for me?"

"Oh, you know these guys—no sense of humor at all. I think it's all the bright lights. Messes with their circadian rhythms."

"Darling, that sounds positively decadent. Are you sure they're into that sort of thing?"

He was about to explain, but then he remembered the wide-eyed look she'd given when she was messing with McKay.

"Not falling for it," John said. 

Vala gave a throaty laugh and leaned over and kissed him, her chest pressing softly against his forearm, her teeth closing on his lower lip before she pulled back. 

God. "Are you—" His voice broke. "Haven't we won enough money yet?" His stack was almost as high as hers. He'd always loved poker more than blackjack; blackjack was just about odds and watching the cards. Predictable and boring, really. 

Vala sighed and slid off her stool. "I suppose I really have teased you long enough." She gathered up her chips and held them out. "Cash us out, won't you? I have an errand to run and then I'll meet you back at the room."

"Sure thing." He stopped just as he was about to turn. "You're not going to ditch me to go pull a bank job or something?"

She smiled impishly. "No...?"

"Because I'm just saying—I'd want in on that."

"Of course, darling." She leaned in and kissed him, sweet and then dirty. When she pulled away, he had a little trouble focusing. "Now be quick," she said. "I'll be waiting."

"Yes, ma'am."

:::

When John pushed open the door to the room, over thirty grand of winnings making a lead weight in his pocket—and really, he was going to have a chat with Vala about her distrust of hotel safes, because this was ridiculous—it was to find he'd beaten her back. There was, however, a bottle of champagne chilling on the center table, "Compliments of the House," which was pretty nice, and a wrapped up fruit basket. John opted for an apple and was flipping open the menu when the door beeped, and Vala breezed in.

She was carrying two shopping bags, and her eyes were gleaming. "There you are," she said.

"Right here as ordered."

"And you have my loot?" She dumped her bags on the bed by his feet and put her hand on his ankle. 

"It's stowed away in my gear bag."

"You did bring a weapon? I forgot to ask."

"Never leave home without it." John leaned over and pulled out the side drawer to reveal his Glock.

"You are such a dear," she said, crawling between his legs to give him a kiss. Her lips were warm and she still tasted like the cheap booze from the blackjack table.

"The hotel gave us some champagne," he said, his voice husky. "Or maybe it's some cheap California stuff, I'm not sure. You want a glass?"

"That would be splendid."

John had some trouble with the cork, which was a little soggy—definitely the cheap stuff—but he eventually got it to pop, and he poured them each a glass, handing it to her where she was yanking stuff out of her bags.

There was lingerie, and he felt his face heat up when he saw the tiny, lacy panties and matching purple top; just imagining Vala wearing them was making his dick hard. He hadn't had a woman dress up—or dress down—for him in a long time, and the last time she'd just been after his DNA.

Vala was doing it just because she wanted to turn him on. 

She'd finished spreading out the clothing on the bed, and now she was reaching into the other bag, tossing out condoms of various types and sizes—John's neck heated for a different reason—lubed and flavored and colored. Lots of condoms. 

"You are some shopper," he said, and then she grinned wickedly at him, reached in and brought out a bottle of lubricant; he wondered at that for a second before she pulled out a battery operated sex toy, slim and sleek and made for other types of penetration.

John's face stung as he thought about using it on her, about her using it on him.

He raised his glass in a toast and she clinked hers against his before taking a gulp. He did the same and they both made a face.

"Gods, this is awful," she said. 

He nodded his agreement. "Guess they only give crap stuff away for free." 

They both put down their glasses, and then he curled his arm around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. It felt like he'd been waiting forever to kiss her, to touch her. Her breasts were soft against his chest, and her tongue dived into his mouth, tasting of bad champagne, but still sweet. He cupped her face in his hands, stroking her sharp cheekbones with his thumbs. She was so gorgeous, so totally unique; she was resourceful, indomitable, had been through hell and back again so many times, but still cared about and protected people like it was her job. She was a survivor. 

And John wasn't sure why she'd lit onto him, except maybe they were alike: they'd both been chucked away as the black sheep. But he was definitely going to enjoy the ride while he could.

Right now, he was enjoying both her hands on his ass, and the shimmying motion she had going on with her hips. In fact, he was enjoying it so much he was going a little bit dizzy in the head.

"Whoa," he said, and she rested her head against his chest and said, "I know what you mean."

"Huh," he added, because as hot as Vala was, she wasn't hot enough to make him fall over, and the dizziness wasn't going away. "Let's, uh, sit down for a second." He sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking her beside him. "I think—"

"I think you're right."

"The champagne—"

"Wasn't from the management."

"Maybe someone saw us winning big at blackjack," he said. He leaned over and pulled his Glock from the side drawer. Vala made a rustling sound beside him, and when he looked up from checking his weapon, she brandished a Taser in her fist.

"Nice," he said. "Where'd you get that?"

"Sam gave it to me when she caught me trying to sneak a zat off base."

"Smart lady. C'mon. Let's establish a defensive position."

They ended up tucked behind a hastily-constructed fortification—the desk turned on its side—within line-of-sight of the door, so that anyone coming in would be wide open to John's shot.

Then they waited. 

Vala was a warm, squirming weight beside him, her hair smelling of cigar smoke, evoking memories of late night poker games with the guys. Except her chest was pressed against his left arm, and her chin was propped on his shoulder, and her breath was tickling his neck, and she kept dragging his head over to kiss her—teasing, tempting kisses—which was no fair because they were supposed to be on watch and John's head was already spinning just from that one sip of drugged champagne.

He groaned after the third kiss and dragged her hand down to his crotch.

It was then, of course, when the door beeped and then opened. John hefted the Glock and pointed it right at the bald-headed guy crouching in the doorway looking damned surprised. His face was just a blurry paste.

"Beat it," John growled, gesturing with the gun.

"What he said so nicely." Vala's Taser crackled in the air as she made her own point. 

The door closed swiftly.

"Did you see his face!" Vala chuckled warmly. 

John put the safety back on. "Not very well. But I'm pretty sure I could have hit him." 

"I suppose that means we're not going to chase the blackguard down."

"I'm not even sure I could stand up at this point."

"Then I guess I have you where I want you," Vala said, and curled her leg over to sit in his lap. Her crotch pressed warm and damp against his hard-on, and he bit back a moan.

"We're still on watch," he said. "Guy could come back. Maybe with friends." Also, he didn't want to go all out with Vala while they were drugged. He might not be much of a gentleman, but that would not be cool. 

"I suppose so," she said airily. "We'll just have to make do." She rolled her hips, rubbing the cloth of his boxers against his hard dick, and this time he did moan. It reminded him of teenage make-out sessions in the back seat of his mom's Caddy, all damp urgency and forbidden hungers. He slid his free hand up beneath her flimsy top and brushed his thumb on the underside of her left breast over her bra.

She shivered and gasped into his mouth. "Cheating," she said mockingly. "I hope you still have a grip on your gun."

"Sure do," he said. But he really should be keeping an eye on the door. "Do me a favor and shift over a little." 

Vala smiled against his lips and shimmied over then started kissing his ear, her teeth doing a business on his earlobe, which was just no fair at all; his ears were totally hard-wired to his cock. And now that her weight was shifted to the side, she could rub her hand down his chest, pinching at his right nipple before planting her hand right on his groin.

He let out a sound.

"Now there is something to keep a girl occupied," she said, "while you keep your eye on the door." 

"As if," he croaked, because she was squeezing him through his khakis, feeling him up, and his eyes wanted to roll back in his head. It was so tenth grade. "You ever do this when you were a kid?" he asked, "feel up your boyfriend in a closet or whatever? Wearing all your clothes, scared you'd get caught?"

Her eyes went hooded. "No, actually." She sounded detached. "My father and step-mum sold me to be a domestic servant to a weapons smuggler when I was a child. The servants weren't allowed to 'feel each other up.' The consequences were quite dire."

"Jesus." His blood turned cold, and his dick wilted a little. He took her hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing her wrist, her palm, then pressed it to his cheek. "That doesn't sound like much fun."

She stared at him a moment, assessing, and then the smile snapped back onto her face, elastic and smooth. If he weren't looking for it, he wouldn't have seen the darkness pooled behind her eyes. 

"Where were we?" she said, trying to reach for his cock again, but he kept hold her hand.

"I was just about to show you how to come with your clothes on," he said, because he thought maybe it was the one thing she'd yet to try, toys, planets, and alien lovers aside. And there was nothing like the dull, shocking, wet pleasure of coming with your clothes on, loose and hot and flushed with just a tinge of embarrassment.

Vala had a puzzled smile on her face, but she let John sit her beside him like they were two kids at the drive-in, let him ease his left hand under her skirt and into her tights to palm her mound over her panties—they felt like plain old cotton panties, utilitarian issue, which made him smile. But she was already wet when he pressed his fingers down over her cunt, and he used the wet to slide the material up, using his middle finger to give her pressure where she needed it.

She gasped and grabbed his forearm, sliding down to his wrist to encourage him, her head tilting to rest against his.

John kept his eyes on the door, his gun hand ready, but the rest of his attention was on the sweet warmth of her hitching against his other hand, the flex of his wrist and fingers, his palm massaging her mound.

"Faster," she said, her voice all husky, and he obliged. She was wetter now, slick-sliding under his fingers, and he could hear her breathing picking up. He could feel how warm and slick she was getting, and how much she liked attention _right there_ , so he focused on circling his fingertip there as best he could through the damp material. She squeezed his wrist a little, making a small, "Ahhh," sound in his ear that send shivers up his spine, and then he felt her tremble, sweet and quiet. 

John smiled and kept going until she tugged slightly on his wrist, and then he eased his hand out of her tights and turned his head, giving her a kiss. 

When he pulled back her cheeks were pink, her eyes just a little vague. "Well, that was perfectly lovely," she said, "if different." She seemed to focus on him. "Would you like a blowjob?" 

John swallowed hard. "That would be against the rules," he said. "And you know it. Thanks a lot."

"Don't mention it." Vala smiled at him, and it wasn't her usual, too-bright smile. This one was softer. "I am known for bending the rules, though..." She leaned against him and started nibbling on his ear again, and his cock, which was already way past hard, throbbed sharply. 

"You like that," Vala said. "I suspected as much. Do try to keep your eyes open," she added as she gripped his hard-on through his pants.

"Fuck."

"I would love to, but you have this ridiculous sense of responsibility," she said, groping up and down, up and down and squeezing him along the way. It felt remarkably good, considering how much he wanted her mouth, or to sink into the hot wetness he'd been feeling just minutes before. Just thinking about that, though, and the sounds she'd made as he stroked her, and the grip of her sure fingers, was sending him up the ladder.

"It's not fair, really," Vala purred in his ear. "I've been wanting to have you since we met in Atlantis and you made faces at me in that briefing." She rubbed her thumb right where it counted. "There's the spot," she said when he gasped. "And ever since you've been back on Earth, I've had to contrive the most trying circumstances to spend time with you."

"You didn't have to," John said. He reached down to join his hand with hers, grinding up against her palm. He was damned close. "I'd already asked Jackson about you."

"Really?" She sounded so wistful, so surprised and happy. 

"Yes," John groaned. And then she bit the tip of his ear, hot and sharp, and rubbed under the head of his dick, and he came, his eyes wide open.

"Well," Vala said a moment or two later. "Was it good for you? I'm told I'm supposed to ask."

"Let's just say I'm glad I had the safety on."

She chuckled low and gave him a kiss then gracefully rose to her feet, only swaying a little once she was up. "As fun as that was, I feel a need to clean up a bit."

John waved her toward the bathroom. He was a little jealous; his own cleanup was going to be more problematic. As he waited, he realized his vision was somewhat clearer; staring at the door, he saw there was a security lock. He must have been really out of it not to have seen it before. He went over to the door and was flipping the lock over when the phone rang.

_"Mr. Sheppard? This is Mr. Stephens, Head of Hotel Security. We have your room listed as one that was accessed by an illegally obtained master key, and we're calling to check up on all our guests. Have any items gone missing from your room?"_

"I take it, since you're calling, that you've caught the guy."

_"The individual responsible has been apprehended."_

"Yeah, he stopped by here, but we asked him to leave. Nothing was taken." 

_"I'm glad to hear it, Mr. Sheppard. Please allow me to send up a free meal, courtesy of the management."_

"No, thanks. I think we'd prefer not to be disturbed." John looked up as Vala exited the bathroom wearing nothing but her flimsy blouse. "In fact, I'm pretty sure of it."

_"As you wish. Have a nice evening."_

"Who was that?" Vala said, coming to sit behind him on the bed and wrapping her arms and legs around him.

"Security. Sounds like they caught the guy." John twisted to hang up the phone, and Vala twisted with him, her hair hanging along his cheek. So he let himself stretch out on the bed, and she curled up behind him, her hand running aggressively up his T-shirt and then over his ribs to squeeze him tightly.

"Hey," he said. "I need to use the can. You don't want to know the state of my drawers."

She pulled away and then tugged him flat to rest her chin on his shoulder. "You call them drawers? Is that because you pull them open and hide things in them?"

He grinned. "Some of us more than others." Tucking some wisps of hair behind her ear, he said, "Are you really up for coming to Pegasus, or was that just to get Mitchell's goat?"

Vala blinked at him gravely. "His goat is very tender and sweet."

"Vala..."

"Yes, I want to come. I've wanted to come see it again for a long time. And..." She looked down and traced something on his chest. "Don't you think we could have fun, you and I?"

It wasn't even a question. The way she'd asked, though, implied maybe she thought he'd push her off. Maybe she had been before, which was just crazy in John's book. He'd give anything to have her smile in that sweet way again; get to see the real Vala, the one protected by ten layers of titanium and a hundred worlds of bad luck.

John knew that score. He'd lived that score. 

"Yeah," he said, voice rough, and she looked up, her eyes keen. He let her see some of it, enough that she smiled, just a little, her mouth soft, and he lifted his head up to kiss that smile. 

It turned into more than just a simple kiss, and pretty soon his dick was chafing in his wet boxers. He groaned and grabbed her hand to keep it from wandering any lower, and said, "Yeah, okay. Shower? Because seriously, my drawers. I think I'm pickling in there."

Vala laughed and crawled over him to stand up. She offered him a hand, her brown eyes bright with mischief and something he wanted to hold onto and take home with him, straight back to Pegasus. 

He could see her there, making his life on Atlantis more interesting, sitting at team dinners and giving Rodney hell, fighting hand-to-hand with Ronon and stealing clothes from Teyla.

And at the end of the day, maybe trading some secrets with John.

He'd like that an awful lot.

 

_End._


End file.
